


That House in Haddonfield

by generalsticky



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spaghetti, gender neutral reader, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalsticky/pseuds/generalsticky
Summary: So, you moved into the old Myers place, huh? Well, you're not the only one that calls that place home.





	That House in Haddonfield

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda really like writing these porny little stories.

Normally, moving into the old Myers’ place was considered a death wish. It was well known throughout Haddonfield, and all the surrounding counties, that residents rarely resided there for long, the really unfortunate ones leaving in a body bag. But with a bad reputation came a price you would’ve been crazy to turn down. And though you had to deal with gawkers while moving in, along with almost a dozen people telling you that you were making a mistake, the house itself was nice, and the first three weeks of living there were nothing if not peaceful. It was only near the end of October, that strange incidents began to occur.

It started out small. Little objects would be found in places you could’ve sworn you hadn’t placed them, the television sometimes turned on in the middle of the night, and occasionally footsteps were heard. But despite searching the whole house, nothing turned up. The house was old, so a few strange things were to be expected. What was not expected, however, was coming downstairs after waking up from a nightmare to see a man in a mask sitting on your couch.

Other than the mask, the coveralls, and the kitchen knife, he looked to be an incredibly average looking person in height (maybe even a few inches taller than average, it was hard to tell) and weight. Still, that kitchen knife prevented you from moving until he turned to look at you. When your eyes met his, which were so dark and almost lifeless looking that you felt reminded of a sharks eyes, you knew who he was. The man who had been responsible for the previous murders in the house. The one that appeared every few Halloweens, leaving a trail of the dead behind him. Michael Myers. Your first thought wasn’t to scream or run, however.

“Are you hungry?” The words just slipped out from between your lips. You received no reply from him. “Okay… well, I’m going to make some spaghetti, if you want any, you’re free to enjoy.” With that out, you headed for the kitchen.

In the kitchen, your heart was racing. Hands shook as you carried the pot of water to the stove. Mixing up the sauce, a special recipe that had been handed down to you from your grandmother, you went between cycling through the choices that had led you to making dinner for a serial killer and having your life flash before your eyes. He would have killed you already if he wanted to, right? That thought wasn’t as comforting as you thought it would be.

Though you were sure it would turn out disastrous, being scared out of your wits while making it, the spaghetti looked perfect. Getting down two bowls, you placed them beside the pot, and returned to the living room. The shape on your couch had not moved, confirming that you were not seeing things. As his eyes looked towards you again, you motioned for him to come into the kitchen.

It felt almost comedic, sitting across the table from a man in a white mask clutching a knife, about to eat spaghetti with him. He raised the mask only high enough to push the fork under, and began to eat. He chewed cautiously, almost as if he suspected it of being poisoned. You took a bite of yours to show it was not. Once he had the first bite down, he began to eat as if this was the first meal he had eaten in ages. Certainly, it was the first that was at least decent.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but take glances at the man on the other side of the table. Seeing him in the light, you could almost see his tight muscles through his coveralls with how thin it was in places. The few glimpses you got of his face certainly didn’t do anything to put out the growing heat between your legs, either. Shit, were you finding this guy attractive? Yes, yes you were.

When the two of you finished dinner, you put the bowls in the dishwasher, and was surprised to find your guest (or were you his? After all, it was his house first) standing behind you, watching your every move. You blushed, noticing from his subtle head movements that he was definitely checking you out. You finished your work quickly, before returning to the living room and sitting on the couch. Michael did the same, sitting directly beside you. Still staring. You looked him over, mimicking his previous motions, but stopped shortly below his waist. A tent was forming in his coveralls, beginning to strain against the materials.

Your mind was racing. Yes, you had no doubt he was sexy as hell under his clothes, and he hadn’t even tried to kill you, but was that enough of a reason to try what you were thinking?

Your hand inched across the couch, eventually resting on his leg. Though he twitched a little upon contact, he did nothing to remove your hand, and in fact, seemed to relax even more. He turned and looked at you. His expression, as always, was indecipherable, but you smiled at him.

It all happened so fast. One hand pulled you close, while the other moved your hand from his thigh straight on top of his bulge, rubbing your hand against the fabric hard. His breathing was audibly heavy, and he did nothing to stop you from unzipping his coveralls, finding out that he apparently was not a fan of underwear.

Before you knew it, you were on top of him, hands holding his masked face to yours as you placed kisses over every inch of it, and he was tearing off your clothes. Fingers fumbled between your legs only briefly, before they were replaced with his dick, roughly shoving it inside you. With how tightly he was gripping your sides, there wasn’t much you could do other than enjoy yourself.

Slowly lifting you up until you were almost completely off him, followed by bringing you rushing back down to his base, Michael had set a hard and fast rhythm. You were pressed against his chest, the words knocked out with every thrust and replaced with gasping moans. Even thoughts were seemingly unable to form, it was so hard to concentrate on anything aside from the shape.

Gradually, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and he quickly drew you past it, cumming as he showed no sign of stopping. A thought managed to briefly form in your head, one about how you might have slight bruises the next day from his rough treatment, but it left just as quickly as it came. Before long, you were back with Michael, holding on to his shoulders and clutching yourself tightly around him.

It was when he sped up, making it hard for your now sweaty hands to keep a grip on him, and his movements became more erratic, that you knew he was close to cumming. Any ideas you had about him not releasing inside you were knocked away as he drew a second orgasm out of you, before forcing you all the way down, grinding you against him as he filled you up.

A minute, maybe two, passed, the two of you sitting there still connected, neither having the energy to part. Your breath came out in ragged paths, your head spinning as he no doubt was going through the same feelings. Slowly, and with a much gentler touch than before, he lifted you off of him, holding you above him as the two of you watched some of his seed slide out with his cock. When his length had been completely unsheathed, he sat you back down on his lap. For the first time time since he was a child, Michael Myers slept peacefully, wrapped in someones arms.


End file.
